Eagle and the Storm
by EagleStrike1
Summary: An Assassin operative in Chicago finds himself in a dangerous place. Can he defeat all odds and complete the mission? Or will he be overwhelmed to defeat? (OC oriented story. Occassional appearances from William, Shaun, Rebeccas and Galina)
1. Americano

The windy streets of Chicago were deserted. A particularly brutal winter had set in. The few souls moving about the cold, damp night were doing so in a hurry. They were eager to get to their destinations. The only ones who sought the streets at this ungodly hour were the wicked and the desperate. Drug dealers, prostitutes, thugs and the homeless. This was their hour. Among these night dwellers was a particularly strange figure. He was dressed for the weather. A hooded trench coat clung to him. The hood covered his face; the coat itself billowed with the wind. Comfortable jeans wrapped his legs as he made his way through the snow covered streets. He ignored the winks and the passes the hookers made. The hooded man had somewhere to be.

She was waiting for him, a stern expression on her face.

"You're late Kyle."

"Sorry." The hooded man replied shortly.

She had expected a better reply than that. She checked her phone and continued.

"We agreed to meet at 1:45 sharp. You are eight minutes late. Why?"

He rolled his eyes. _Of course she won't let this go._

"My neighbors were having a party. I was invited. I have to spend **some** time socializing, don't I?"

She didn't reply. She simply gestured him to follow her. A small café was open. They both ordered Americano and made themselves comfortable in a corner booth. The woman reached inside her pockets and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. She began writing. The hooded man did not bother asking her what she was writing. She paused for a while and then continued scribbling. Their beverages had arrived. The man took off his hood. In the bright lights, he looked absolutely ordinary. He had a plain face. Dark hair, dark eyes and a slightly long nose. He wasn't specifically handsome or attractive. But he did have a pleasant face and a calm, easy going expression. The woman was similar. She had long dark hair and dark eyes. Her nose was thin and pointed. She wore glasses and had a rather haughty expression on her face. Nevertheless, she had a strange power over most people that made them nervous or feel intimidated. Looking at them, they looked like a regular pair of co-workers or maybe even a couple. No one would look at these people and suspect them to be a pair of highly trained assassins.

The man named Kyle quietly sipped his coffee as the woman in front of him continued writing on the piece of paper. He gestured for a refill and as he sipped on the warm, refilled coffee, he cleared his throat. The woman looked up at him. They were alone.

"What's new? Are you close?" She asked him.

"I think so. The leader trusts me. Or rather doesn't see me as anything more than a kid looking for a job. He's been teaching me how to fix engines for a while now."

The woman nodded. He took it as a cue to continue. So he did.

"He deals mostly with upscale clients. Rich teenagers living off their parent's money. He gets them illegal parts for high prices and uses the surplus to pay off police officers. He also has a moderate influence over the flow of drugs. He provides vehicles for the drug mules. The other gangs leave him alone though. They mostly use burners to get in touch. Far as I can tell, that's all he's involved in."

She nodded again, confirming what she already knew. This infuriated him. _Why hadn't she simply told him that?_ He was about to voice his thought when she spoke up.

"Okay. So he's a quiet fellow. Does he have a clue about the turf war that's brewing?"

He shook his head.

"I see." She replied.

"What does William say about all this?" He asked her.

"He thinks that the cartel is trying to take over the local guns as well. You need to make sure the cartel manages to do that."

"Why?" He asked her.

His simple question reminded her of his lack of experience. He was 17 years old, after all. She had been surprised that he had agreed to perform this operation. She had even voiced her doubts to William. But William had been confident about him. Then again, he had proved to be effective so far. So she gave him the benefit of the doubt and answered him.

"The cartel supplies all the drugs in Chicago and transports them through a wide network of dealers. The local gangs know that the cartel is powerful and won't interfere with the drugs. This has reduced them to trading guns. Rusty automatics and the likes, stolen from abandoned cold war outposts and so on. All in all, they supply mediocre product. If the cartel takes over the gun business as well, the local gangs will be out of jobs. Naturally, they'll have to fight over the territories."

He understood easy enough. And yet,

"But say the cartel takes over. What good does that do to us? Far as I'm concerned, these are all gangland thugs. They have no military experience, no tradecraft. I can defeat the local gangs or the cartel and I can do it quietly. Why bother letting the cartel take over?"

She smiled quietly and replied.

"The cartel is backed by Templars. They probably don't know them as the Templars but it hardly matters to them. They're all greedy criminals looking for a quick buck. After the failure to launch Eye Abstergo, the Templars have been careful not to get involved with the crime syndicate in America directly. They know that there are Intelligence agencies looking into them. We let the cartel take over because the profit the cartel makes is funding Abstergo's research facilities and militia in the United States. William and his team may have found a possible Piece of Eden in America. They need to take out Abstergo's infrastructure before researching further into this."

Realization dawned on him and he smiled back.

"So I assist the cartel in taking over the gun business. The local gangs will be forced to rise up against the cartel and the resulting battle will cripple both sides. I finish off their remaining networks and cripple their supply and demand. The cartel will be forced to pull out of Chicago and Abstergo will lose a major source of their income stateside."

She nodded and added,

"Not to mention the turf war will attract federal attention and Abstergo will have to pull out for good. We cripple Chicago and we essentially cripple Templar control in America's criminal element. Assassins kill with more than just blades, Kyle."

He grinned and nodded his head enthusiastically and replied,

"So, what do I have to do?"

She pushed over the piece of paper she had been writing on earlier and replied,

"This is the address and details to our Chicago cell. You'll find all equipments, tools and necessary dossiers over there. Go back to your apartment. I'll contact you in two hours after you check in from the cell. I'll give you further instructions then. For now just do you job and watch. Note down anything odd and contact me only if it's an emergency. Just remember that if you are in immediate danger, don't hesitate to kill. Your life is far more important than the mission."

And with that she got up and left. He knew she was lying. The mission was far more important than him. He would follow her instructions for now and pretend to be a normal teenager who worked to put himself through school. He sipped the warm coffee. Yes. This was going to be an adventure.


	2. Framed

**Hi! This chapter is a filler like the last one. I just want to set up a premise before I go deeper into the story. Anyway, I want you to know that the upcoming chapters will see our protagonist going full assassin. Also the new characters introduced here won't stick around. I just want to give the readers a proper and justified view of the narrative. Stick with me and review the story. Tell me what you like and don't like and i'll try my best to do better. Enjoy!**

* * *

A crowd had formed outside the shop. The policemen had strict orders not to speak with the press. At least until the crime scene was analyzed and they knew what they were dealing with. Detective Cole flashed his badge as he entered the threshold of the shop. It looked like an ordinary thrift shop. The crime had happened in the back. The Captain was talking to a senior detective just outside the back door. Forensics units were busy taking pictures. The Captain saw Cole and gestured him to join him.

"What have we got here captain? Drew told me it was a multiple homicide."

"That's right. We got an anonymous tip this morning. Units suspect it was a local gang hit. It's common for those assholes to announce their kills proudly."

There were three bodies. Pools of blood formed beneath them right below the throat. The first two bodies were lying face down while the third was facing upwards. Cole pulled out a pair of gloves and knelt down besides a forensic unit as he put on his gloves.

"Can you tell me what happened here?" he asked the unit. He didn't remember his name.

The man took a photo and nodded. He pointed to the body on the right and replied,

"This one had his throat slit. A single, precise cut that went in 4 inches deep. The nerves and arteries that got slashed caused him to bleed out in seconds. He fell to his knees and tried to staunch the bleeding with both his hands. He was killed approximately 10 hours ago, just like the rest of the bodies."

He pointed to the body on the left and continued.

"This one had a more painful death. He was stabbed through the throat with the same type of weapon used on his buddy on the right. The stab punctured his windpipe and blood gushed inside. He choked on his blood and died in a painful fit of suffocation. However the stab was expertly done. A single strike that slid in and pierced through the back of his neck and slid out within a second as indicated by most of the blood going inwards into the pipe. Whoever did this was very calm and precise. There's no indication of the blade having shifted even slightly. It was so quietly done that I doubt someone standing outside this room would have even heard a thing."

"I see." Cole replied. "Now tell me about the third victim."

The forensic unit stood up and walked beside Cole to the third body. They knelt on either sides and the unit spoke up.

"This one was choked to death. He was choked with masked hands as the killer straddled him. The pressure exerted on him crushed his windpipe. I doubt this one was done by the same guy who killed the other two. See the other two kills are precise while this one is just sloppy."

"How so?" Cole asked as he saw a grin form on the latter's face.

He pulled a glass vial from a parcel and replied,

"Well for starters, our killer might have left some DNA. In this case, a strand of split hair that probably fell off while he was choking the victim. I've already checked this hair strand with the victims and it definitely isn't the shade of their hair color. Considering the owner is in New York, I'd say there is a solid chance this might belong to the killer."

* * *

Kyle looked around the room. It wasn't particularly large but it was large enough to allow him freedom of movement. On the desk were stacks of papers and dossiers that he had been reading. There was a bed right below the windowsills and a lamp on top of the bed stand. The sun was shining brightly and he shuffled his feet across the carpeted floor as he lay down on the bed. He was exhausted. Someone knocked on the door as he bolted to his feet. Another knock and then there was a pause. Two more knocks followed and after one more pause there was a final knock. He relaxed as he moved towards the door and opened it. She was wearing casual clothes. He gestured her to get in and shut the door behind them. He made sure to latch the door although this was unnecessary, the door was designed to shut out all noise from the inside.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked her. She asked for a glass of water. He went into the kitchen as she started inspecting his apartment.

She accepted the glass of water with a quiet smile and sipped. He wasn't fooled into believing she was even slightly pleased with him. He simply waited for her to reach past her threshold of tolerance. As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long.

"I see you've already managed to screw things up. Not to mention you took these dossiers from the cell. What if someone came inside to inspect the apartment and found a series of papers that documented the entire Chicago PD? Not to mention leaving those bodies in the middle of town was extremely sloppy. What were you thinking? And who the hell was that third man? Your actions might have caught Templar attention. How is this in accordance with what I told you to do?" She was starting to flush dull red.

He hastily replied before she started again.

"I'm sorry but I had to make slight changes in the plan. I drugged the two scouts from the cartel and kept them unconscious as planned. I would have dumped them in Asian territory two days ago but I stumbled upon a golden opportunity. One of the Asian gangsters brought his car to the garage I work in. He left the car there because he was having some engine trouble. I patched the car up and attached a GPS bug discreetly. The Asian drove up to a warehouse they own in a shady neighborhood. He was getting rid of the third body. I killed the Asian and plucked a strand of his hair. I planted it at the crime scene. I carried the third body, the man had been killed very recently. I carried and dragged the cartel scouts to that back room and made it look like they had all been killed simultaneously. They were delirious and exhausted and barely knew what was happening until it was too late."

"But why plant the bodies in the middle of the city? And where is the Asian you killed?"

He smiled grimly. He walked up to the table and leafed through some papers. He finally found what he was looking for. He passed her the paper. She read it quietly.

"Ok. So the shop is owned by the Asians as well, the owner is a friend of the Asians. So the shop is a front for laundering and you just pointed the police towards the money. I see. The Cartel believes the Asians killed their scouts meanwhile the police discover the illegal money. With the police on their tail and the cartel out for revenge, you've essentially removed the Asians from the equation. Well done."

He raised an eyebrow and asked,

"Is that a compliment I'm hearing?"

"Yes. You did good. Now tell me what you plan to do with the body of the Asian."

"Well, I already removed and destroyed the GPS bug. The Asians might be gone but that just means the other local gangs will have more breathing room. I took out the Asian with a handgun. Right now, that gun is locked up at the cell. The body itself will turn up in a day or two. I'm working on a way to get another gangster to leave his fingerprints on the gun so that the police have a new target."

She was impressed. He could tell that she was impressed. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a new piece of paper. They had further instructions for him. He was satisfied with the way things were going at the moment. All he needed to worry about was Abstergo. But he had a plan for that as well.


	3. Amateur Hour

**This chapter is shorter than the previous ones. But i'm building up to the action parts now so hold tight! A special thanks to The Darkness Knight for the reviews and support. Cheers!**

* * *

Calm. That's what he felt. A sense of peacefulness he could only find in the rooftops. The cool night air rushed about as he stood tall, letting his eagle soar free. The city looked absolutely stunning. From up here he could almost imagine the city was at peace. Walking to the edge he crouched and tapped into his heightened senses. Like a hunter watching its game, he watched the men from afar. He had waited for this. Discretion might be a sensible course of action but the Assassin inside him longed for this. The thrill of the stalk began to build as adrenaline coursed through his body. He was an Assassin first and foremost. And while he enjoyed scheming and manipulating his enemies, nothing could beat the excitement of the actual deed.

He was in standard Assassin attire. Rubber soled boots, comfortably tight jacket and combat trousers. He strapped his hidden blades on his wrists and tested them. They slipped out from beneath the jacket cuffs with relative ease. Satisfied, he sheathed a tactical knife on his left and holstered a 9mm on his back. The gun was strictly for emergency situations. He wasn't particularly fond of guns. They were loud and in his opinion, a crude weapon. He had argued attaching a suppressor and then decided against it. Suppressors never worked like in the movies. They were still pretty loud and reduced the velocity of the bullets, often causing nothing more than bruised ribs and slightly penetrated bullet proof vests. Guns were often effective, but blades were always successful. A balanced thrust, a graceful arc or a well timed jab always got the work done. He strapped a smoke grenade inside his jacket as a precaution, a small medical pack along with it and pulled up his phone. It was 2 in the morning. Switching his phone to a silent profile, he put it back and made his way down the fire escape.

Ten minutes later, he was outside the factory walls, concealed behind a garbage bin. _Criminals are so predictable_. It had taken him less than an hour to locate a site that was large enough to allow a dozen men to pack drugs and ship them. This was the heart of Chicago's underworld. He had driven away the Asian gangsters by exposing their money laundering operations. The local gangs were already killing each other off in a gruesome gang war. The escalation of violence had forced the mayor to pass new laws and deploy Gangland task forces. Kyle had ensured that anonymous tips and discrete bribes always pointed towards more criminals. Essentially, Chicago's authorities were slowly overpowering the criminal underworld. Now drugs were all that sustained and fueled the thugs. Until tonight. The remaining gangs had come to some form of agreement and were working together to pull off a massive drug shipment operation. He was going to put a stop to them.

He climbed the walls with ease and landed lightly on the inner compound. The place had been abandoned years ago and had no security cameras and no alarm systems. A pair of thugs sat outside the gates, smoking and talking in loud voices. Sticking to shadows and cover, he made his way towards them. They were supposed to be on guard duty. Their negligence caused their lives as he drove his knife behind the first one's back and then his hidden blade through the other's throat in rapid succession. He stripped and disposed the powerful assault rifles the men had been carrying. The other men were further inside the compound. They were widely spread out over the industrial compound. They were all heavily armed but he also noticed that they were working in a casual, careless manner. Perhaps they believed their recent alliance would keep them safe.

 _But they are pawns in my chess board._

Everything went right as he killed all twelve men with precision. That's when the shot rang out. It missed him by inches. With lightning fast reflexes, he ducked behind a large industrial container as more shots rang. There were three guns. He could tell by the sound of three different caliber bullets ringing across the large compound. He chanced a quick look and spotted a man some thirty yards away. He couldn't see anyone besides the lone man who seemed to be firing from an assault rifle. Ducking low, he circled around the container and flanked the shooter's left. He hadn't been spotted. Focusing his mind, he activated Eagle vision and spotted two distinct shades of red on the roof outside the compound's adjacent building. _The roof?_ Realization dawned on him as he noticed the shooter closest to him was dressed in SWAT gear. The other two shooters were looking for him from the powerful scopes of M16 rifles. Outside the compound, vehicles could be heard as they lined up, creating a blockade. A man's voice rang from a megaphone as Kyle desperately clung to the shadows.

"This is the police. The building is surrounded on all sides. Give up your arms and surrender right away and you will be provided a trial. If you don't show yourself, my men will enter the building and shoot everyone on sight. You have 60 seconds."

The megaphone was put away as SWAT officers took positions all around the building. Kyle knew he was trapped. He didn't have firepower except for the 9mm. He was boxed in and surrounded. He cursed himself for being reckless. These thugs had chosen one of the most obvious locations in the city to perform their operation. Of course the police had found them. Realizing that he had no other choice, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. The call was received after two rings and a male voice spoke.

"Yes?"

"It's Kyle. I'm at the abandoned factory I told you about. I'm surrounded by SWAT teams that will move in for final assault in less than a minute. I need help."

William Miles hung up the call. He addressed the woman in front of him.

"You are up, Galina. Make me proud."


	4. Boom

Ducking and sticking to shadows, he had so far avoided the SWAT officers inside the compound. He was heavily outnumbered and outgunned. He could have taken on these men with decent firepower but he was limited to handguns. Killing these officers was out of the question. These were innocent men doing their duties. Not to mention these weren't gangland thugs but SWAT officers, well trained and battle tested. Hoping that Bill would arrange something, he kept on hiding. But he could not hide for much longer, he was boxed in. Two dull shots echoed somewhere close to him. _Who were they shooting at?_ He peeked from behind a wall and saw a figure rounding a corner on his left. Two officers were lying on the ground, their weapons dismantled and their bodies immobile. The next few seconds happened in a blur.

He heard a flutter of clothes behind him and turned around, his body switching to a defensive position. A hand shot out at him and he swerved, narrowly avoiding being punched. He countered with a jab; the figure blocked and attempted to lock his arm. He retracted his arm just as the figure launched a kick at him. The kick caught him in the chest and he stumbled backwards. Working with the momentum, he let his body roll backwards and regained his footing mid roll. His assailant was closing the gap between them and Kyle saw his opening; his attacker's torso was exposed as the right arm was raised for a punch. Once again, he rolled backwards and raised his feet upwards just as his hands grabbed his attacker's waist. The attacker was launched into a somersault as he clung to the body and landed upright, his legs resting on the ground beside the waist. He raised his arm to deliver a knockout punch and paused. It was a girl. The girl let out a mirthless laugh as he stared at her, dumbfounded. She had expected this exact reaction from him.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Galina. Bill sent me."

His eyes widened as he realized who he was talking to. This was Galina Voronina, the last surviving member of the Russian Assassin Brotherhood. He would have loved to talk more but now was not the time. They both stood up and Galina reached inside her jacket. She handed him a large handgun. He didn't recognize the handgun and looked at her, puzzled.

She understood his confusion and replied,

"Russian craftsmanship. We used them for training as children, they fire rubber bullets and paint pellets. The magazine is loaded with reinforced rubber bullets with a flat head. The gun can fire upto fifty caliber rounds and the impact of flat bullets will cause heavy bruising and a lot of pain. But the men will live. Now come on, there's still plenty of them left. Let's get out of here without having to use them."

Galina's plan didn't work as favorably. They came across a strike team of three, armed with powerful assault rifles. Galina signaled him and he crept up behind the man on the back. He used the butt of the gun to strike the man in the nape of his neck. The man crumpled instantly and he fired on the man in front of him. The third man fell instantly as Galina's bullet caught him in the back. They were all unconscious, no permanent damage done. He was impressed with the gun's performance.

* * *

It wasn't long before the compound had been left behind. Bill had already left. Galina led Kyle through the streets to an abandoned warehouse. William Miles was inside the warehouse, sifting through a bunch of papers.

"I was surprised you contacted me today. I thought you were staying low."

"It's a good thing I didn't. Who would have gotten you out today if it hadn't been for me?" Bill replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. Kyle knew he was kidding, but he still felt embarrassed.

"It was a dumb mistake. I considered the statistical and tactical aspects but not the most basic logical aspects. I should have thought about police intelligence before going in."

"You're new at this, these things happen. Don't beat yourself up."

Bill's words weren't much of a consolation. But he let it go.

"So how come you are here? Is it something big?" He asked Bill, already knowing the answer.

It was Galina who replied.

"The cartel is moving faster than we thought. Your stunt with the money laundering business was the catalyst. With its major competition reduced, they are bringing in fighters from Juarez. At least three dozen men with military training have already crossed the border according to the Department of Defense. Rebecca intercepted an order from one of the Cartel owned security companies. They placed a massive order of high caliber SMGs and assault rifles for their "security consultants". They are gearing up for war."

"They're going to start a gang war in American soil? That's a rather dumb move. The CIA has been itching for an excuse to deploy the military on Mexico after the border disputes. What are they playing at?" Kyle asked incredulously.

William chuckled and replied.

"The cartel is being backed by the Templars. Don't forget that. There are Templar drones inside CIA as well. If there is fallout from this war, the Templars will contain it as a local gang war, keep the cartel up and running."

Kyle knew he was right. More importantly, he knew he was absolutely fucked. He gathered his thoughts and asked,

"I still don't understand why you're here."

William passed the stack of papers to him and replied,

"To warn you actually. Abstergo is sending in one of their top operatives to oversee the extermination of the local gangs. They'll stay clear of the actual violence but you can be certain that they will call the shots. You will have to extra careful now and stay out of their radius at all costs. We are in their blind spot. We can't afford to let them know that we are operating here as well. You need to blend into the streets and make sure the cartel captures the underground quickly. With the gangs out of power they will turn to your boss for manpower and transport. Get thick with them and make them feel welcome. When you are in the heart of the operation, strike down the Templar supervisor and dismantle the underground network. I'll have my team create a paper trail that links Abstergo to the underground. Abstergo will come under investigation and will lose a major money source."

William's plan was brilliant. He had to admire the man's thought process.

"So who is this Templar supervisor? Someone we know?"

William took a long breath and replied,

"Berg. Juhani Otso Berg will be supervising this operation. Your mission is to infiltrate your way through Sigma team and assassinate Berg."

"Oh fuck."

William cracked a smile at him. He stood up as Galina announced that their transportation was ready.

"Good luck Kyle. This is a dangerous mission but I have enough faith in you to know that you will see it through."

Galina nodded at him and was about to leave when a massive explosion sounded. The glass windows shattered. And then all hell broke loose.


End file.
